Things that whisper in the night.

My subconscious mind is at its most active in the moments before sleep over takes the rest of my body. Even the exhaustion of a long industrious day does not interfere with the matters it wishes to raise. The things I have pushed to that place where I wish to lock them away and deny their existence. A storehouse of words I wish were never said, images that once seen can never be unseen, moments lost as well as those the conscious mind could not comprehend or rationally explain and would rather forget. However the subconscious mind does not.

As the responsibilities of the day and consciousness relaxes before sleep it goes to work behind closed eyelids, deep inside the mind that has delegated the handling of these matters on to it. The softness of the pillow and the comfort of the warm bed coverings over me are no shield against the processing of its contents.

The settling sounds of the house in the cool night air are not comforting as darkness fills my bedroom and hidden thoughts creep to the front of my mind. My subconsious mind brings the unexplained to my attention and forces me to make contact with it.

My skin not covered by blankets, my face and shoulders, tingle with erupting goose bumps as my mind hears a voice that my ear does not register. I realise I am are not alone in an empty room as this soundless voice says hello.

Home is a safe place and this evening had been like any other of the countless nights spent in it since moving here in the early eighties. When I had finished my night time chores I had been surprised by the lateness of the hour but still managed to turned off my small bedside light at 11.30pm. Before closing my eyes for the night I had been thinking about how life turns around and how independent I had become. I had pondered the idea of being alone, its benefits and disadvantages and decided, consciously, if that is the way it is meant to be it would not be bad.

Shadows move around the room as cars pass on the street outside and shapes seem to form were none should be. I feel them and hold my breath waiting for them to move again.

A voice assaults my head that I sense more thant hear. It sounds almost like a teachers final attempt to be heard over a class of rowdy teenagers. Through the ear resting on my pillow a voice shouts hello.

Although covered with blankets I’m frozen in place. I’m not alone.

At this moment, with an unknown voice ringing in my head, a hand to hold would be comforting.

The shadows have not moved. The room is still. The noise of cars on the road outside rise and subsides as they pass by without a second thought for the occupants of the dwellings along their route.

There is no feeling of threat.

Breath in, breath out.

The house creaks and settles. No other noise comes from within its walls.

Breath in, breath out.

Maybe I’m dreaming. A very vivid dream, I could still feel the aftermath of the voice my mind heard within my left ear, but a dream none the less. I moved to verify the time that had passed since turning off the light. The clock stands sentinel on the bedside table to the right of the bed, I roll all the way over to see the fluorescent numbers on its face. A little dot of light is gleaming next to the pm label and the numbers are 11.50.

Shadows dance as another vehicle with a faceless driver moves closer to its destination.

Breath in, breath out.

Pressure on my shoulder. It feels like someone is patting me?

Breath in, breath out.

Do I feel frightened?

Breath in, breath out.

My ears are again deprived of hearing a sound but my head registers a brief chortle before the pressure lifts off my shoulder. The voice whispers this time and I turn to see who is with me.